Pootling around the greenhouse this afternoon trying not to fret about poor, poor Prince Harry and his lack of security court case (pah!) I thought, ‘What is it EXACTLY about gardening that makes one so, well, happy?’ I was tucking seeds up in their new composty beds - courgette, cucumber, purple sprouting broccoli, dwarf French beans, basil - patting them down gently and watering them so they settled, and it was just such a lovely thing to be doing. The air was warm and still, the birds were singing, Nell was only grating slightly on my nerves with her excitement that a watering can was in action. It was just so…nice.
The seeds I sowed two or three weeks ago are doing well. I can announce there are now FIVE emerging tomato plants so all is not lost. But it’s the lupins that are racing away with 22 out of the 30 I sowed all emerged. I haven’t stopped to consider if twenty two lupins might be too many. Gardeners can never have too many plants.
Look at this dear little thing! Barely an inch tall and it already LOOKS like a lupin!!
The sweet Williams I sowed last Autumn to over-Winter in the greenhouse are doing very well and developing their flower buds:
There’s eight pots under all that foliage. I’ll give it another couple of weeks and then move them outside. I love sweet Williams. I am looking forward to cutting them for display in the house. They last an age and smell divine.
This is my special needs pear tree. We inherited it when we moved here so it must be at least ten years old now. Every year for the last six years I have threatened it with the axe because, despite the huge show of blossom in April, its ability to produce an actual crop of viable pears is sorely lacking. But its blossom is so beautiful it wins a reprieve every year. I am sure it is secretly laughing at my pushover nature.
The raised beds are almost ready for action. I felt quite miserable about them over Winter because they had been used as a dumping ground for leaves, hedge and tree cuttings and other such tutt, but last week I girded my loins, gave myself a strict talking to á la Auntie Pollie the Gardener mode, and spent a day clearing them up and sorting them out. At the start of the day I thought I’d be happy if I could get four of them organised but once I got started I ploughed on through (as I tend to do when faced with a challenge) and all eight will be ready for planting ‘n’ growing duties come May. Hurrah!
The hops are on the rampage, emboldened by this second week of quite delightful weather.
There appear to be six shoots on each plant this year so I shall need to consider something sturdy and effective for them to climb up, rather than the inadequate bean canes that are currently in situ. And I’d better get a move on because this morning the tallest shoot was sitting just below the top of its protective case, and this afternoon it has emerged over the top! They really do grow that quickly.
Lady Rosemary, whom I planted as a tiny shrub when we moved here, is now taller than me - breaching six feet in height - and, quite frankly, looks magnificent! I say ‘good day’ to her whenever I pass by and I always ask her if it’s okay to take a few snips for culinary purposes, because it’s only polite, isn’t it? She is always very obliging and generous. An example to us all.
And finally, this arrived in the post this morning:
One hefty brass sun dial! Just need to find a plinth upon which to place it and make sure it’s pointing in the right direction.
I have also ordered a cubic metre of pea gravel because I was weeding the herb beds and tidying up the courtyard this morning, and the gravel base is wearing very thin in places and could do with a refresh. Pea gravel is surprisingly cheap to buy in bulk. It is also heavy to shift but will provide me with a good work out for my elder lady muscles. And if I die during the process, at least the courtyard will look smart for the funeral wake.
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